The People You Meet In Heaven
by ibelieveintruelove
Summary: Because there is someone who loves you and is waiting for you on the other side.  A chronicle of the deaths of significant Star Wars characters, and the loved ones they are reunited with in the afterlife.
1. Chapter 1: Jedi Master

_Summary_: Because there is someone who loves you and is waiting for you on the other side. A chronicle of the deaths of significant Star Wars characters, and the loved ones they are reunited with in the afterlife.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing!

_A/N_: This is just a little writing experiment that I decided to post. It will be updated randomly, but it will be in chronological order, so if there is any specific character that you would like to read about, please let me know so that I can prepare a chapter for them. Enjoy! =)

* * *

.

The People You Meet In Heaven

By: ibelieveintruelove

.

**Chapter 1: Qui-Gon Jinn**

.

_Qui-Gon Jinn_

_57 BrS – 3 GrS_

_Jedi Master, Servant of the Republic_

_._

_

* * *

_

**Sister.**

.

.

When he opened his eyes an angelic young face greeted him, soft brown curls framing sparkling blue eyes that could only be found on a five year old.

"Qui-gy!"

The small girl jumped on his chest, and even though he expected pain, he found that all he felt was the soft warmth of her body on top of his.

"You're home," the little girl cried, squeezing her arms around him as tightly as she could.

"I'm – where am I?" Qui-Gon asked. He slowly sat up, and the young girl quickly situated herself in his lap.

"You're home, Qui-gy," she said. "Home with me and mommy and daddy, like you should be."

His breath caught in his chest as he stared at the girl in his lap. Her innocent face was not familiar to him, but at the same time he felt as though he should remember her…

"Rosi-Lon," he whispered. "Baby Rosi."

Rosi giggled happily and wrapped her arms around her big brother. "Welcome to heaven, Qui-gy."

.

.

* * *

**Critic.**

.

.

Qui-Gon knew that the Jedi Master had never particularly cared for him while he was alive.

It appeared the feeling had not changed.

"Always so sure of yourself," Master Tyvokka said. "What gives you the authority to proclaim a slave boy the Chosen One? A high midi-chlorian count he may have, perhaps the boy is special – but the Council did not want him to be trained. And your stubbornness and rebelliousness has left your Padawan burdened with your little experiment."

"You did not meet him," Qui-Gon replied. "Anakin is a boy of remarkable talent and ability. I have high hopes for him. And Obi-Wan is more than capable of training him. I know of no one more suited to the task."

"Training him is dangerous," the Wookiee argued. "And your Padawan has such an attachment to you that he will fulfill your dying wish – even though he was against it in the first place! Nothing good can come of this decision."

"Have some faith, friend," Qui-Gon said. "I have gained _some_ wisdom since your passing."

"Not enough," Tyvokka growled. "Not enough."

.

.

* * *

**Almost Lover.**

.

.

He found her in the Archives, sorting through the history section. He knew that these weren't the actual Jedi Archives, but seeing her there, rearranging the shelves, brought him back to a time when he could walk into the Archives on any given day and she would be there, waiting for him. It was almost as if nothing had changed.

But when she lifted her head, and her eyes shone with recognition, and Qui-Gon realized that she could actually _see_ him again, he remembered where he was, and just how greatly things were changing.

"I did not expect to see you here so soon," Tahl said, her voice soft and gentle and oh-so-familiar.

"Neither did I," Qui-Gon admitted. "But that does not mean I am not happy to be here."

He reached out for her hand, and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

"You're older than I remember," Tahl smiled. "And was your hair always quite this long?"

"I believe it was even longer the last time you saw it," Qui-Gon teased. "Obi-Wan finally convinced me to cut it – said it was unbecoming for a Jedi Master to have such unruly hair."

"I miss him," Tahl sighed. "Will he be alright, with you gone?"

"He will become a great Jedi Knight; far wiser than I ever was," Qui-Gon assured her. "Besides, Anakin will look out for him."

"Ah, that's right," Tahl said. "You left Obi-Wan with the task of training the Chosen One. No easy feat."

"Do you think I was wrong?" Qui-Gon hesitated. "It was a lot to ask of him, and he has only just gained his Knighthood, perhaps I should not have insisted – "

"Have faith in your Padawan," Tahl interrupted. "You have taught him well, Obi-Wan is more than capable of training Anakin. Besides, you can always help if need be."

"Help?" Qui-Gon asked, perplexed. Tahl grinned mischievously and grabbed Qui-Gon's hand, leading him away from the Archives.

"Come with me," she said. "There is much for you to learn."

.

.

.


	2. Chapter 2: Handmaiden

_Summary_: Because there is someone who loves you and is waiting for you on the other side. A chronicle of the deaths of significant Star Wars characters, and the loved ones they are reunited with in the afterlife.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing!

_A/N_: Chapter 2 of my experiment. Enjoy! =)

* * *

.

The People You Meet In Heaven

By: ibelieveintruelove

.

**Chapter 2: Cordé **

.**  
**

_Cordé Velucia_

_15 BrS – 13 GrS_

_Beloved Daughter and Sister, Died in Service of her Queen and Senator_

.

* * *

**Aunt.**

.

.

Cordé knew she was in heaven the minute she smelled the vanilla and cinnamon aroma that always seemed to surround her Aunt Nitti.

"Cordé!" she cried, slamming down a freshly baked loaf of bread. "What's happened? Why are you here?"

"There was an attack, Nitti," Cordé explained. "An assassination attempt on the Senator's life. As her decoy…I died so that she could live."

Nitti nodded stiffly.

"Good girl," she said. "Your mother will be heartbroken, I'm sure, and your father will be angry for weeks – you know how much he hated that job of yours – but they will both be very proud of you. Now come and sit, I'll make you something to eat."

Cordé smiled and sat down at a table that was already overflowing with cakes, pastries, breads, cookies, and all other types of dessert imaginable. Aunt Nitti had never been very affectionate, but her love was in her baking, and the minute Cordé took a bite of Nitti's bread, she knew she was home.

.

.

* * *

**Sidekick.**

.

.

"Will you hurry up already? It's not like I've been waiting for you for fifteen years or anything!"

Cordé laughed loudly and picked up the ball on the ground next to her. Across the field stood Kisher, childhood friend and playmate, who didn't seem to have changed one bit.

"So what's the game today?" Cordé asked. "Or is a simple game of catch enough to satisfy you?"

"For the time being, I guess," he replied. "But afterwards, can we go swimming? The waterhole is always the perfect temperature, and we haven't played water tag in ages!"

Cordé grinned and threw the ball to Kisher, who just barely caught it. For an eight-year-old boy, he really was a terrible athlete.

"Race you there!" Cordé called, taking off in the direction of the swimming hole.

"Hey, no fair!" Kisher yelled after her.

Cordé laughed as she ran through the fields, and in the back of her mind she wondered what the rest of her childhood would have been like if Kisher hadn't drowned when she was ten. Would they have gone away to school together, become the dream team architects like they'd always wanted? Cordé didn't think so.

Besides, she wouldn't change her decision to become a Handmaiden for anything.

.

.

* * *

**Lover.**

.

.

She was waiting for her in their apartment. The radio was on, some old rock band blaring through the speakers. She could smell the caf brewing on the stove, but not even that was strong enough to cover the smell of burnt food.

"_Kriff!_"

A loud bang followed the expletive, and Cordé hurried towards the kitchen to find Versé surrounded by dirty dishes, both on the counter and on the floor, trying desperately to pull what looked like overcooked shaak steak out of the oven without burning herself.

"What have you done to our kitchen?" Cordé laughed, hurrying forward to help Versé with the steak.

"I was _trying_ to make your favorites for dinner, but apparently my terrible culinary skills haven't improved much in the afterlife. Or my coordination, for that matter."

"You are such a klutz, you know that?" Cordé teased. Together they brought the smoking dish to the counter, quickly abandoning it as a lost cause.

"Shut up, you love me," Versé smiled. She gasped as Cordé suddenly caught her up in a tight hug.

"I don't know what I would have done if you weren't here," she whispered. "I know that's horribly selfish of me…but I can't imagine being here without you."

Versé slowly pulled back, framing Cordé's face in her hands.

"I would rather have died than have to live a life without you, Cordé," she said. "Maybe…maybe we just weren't meant to live without each other."

Cordé smiled against the tears that rolled down her cheeks. How was it that Versé always knew just what to say? And she never did, especially after hearing a comment as romantic as that.

So, Cordé kissed her instead.

.

.

.


End file.
